


The Twelve Days of WinterShock

by CreativeReading



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeReading/pseuds/CreativeReading
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky receives twelve gifts from his very special Secret Santa. Bucky/Darcy. Wintershock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note** \- This is a Christmas prompt for serenityscribbles on tumblr.

This story takes place after CA:TWS. It is not canon compliant with Age of Ultron. At all.

* * *

**The Twelve Days of WinterShock**

**Day 1**

Bucky was just sitting down to a sad little microwaved dinner that consisted of a grayish brown lump of meat covered in a grayish brown gravy nestled next to a white mealy-looking mound that claimed to be mashed potatoes when he heard a buzzing sound. He huffed a bit and then got up and went to his apartment door, looking through the electronic peephole. The video screen showed that there was no one standing there and he nearly turned around to sit back down, when he heard JARVIS's unmistakable British accent.

"Sir, a package has been left for you."

Bucky opened the door and reared his head when he saw what had been left in the hall in front of his door.

"What is that?" He scratched the back of his neck as he examined the basket on the ground, wrapped in clear cellophane with a large red bow stuck on the top.

"It appears to be a gift, sir," JARVIS helpfully replied.

"Yeah. I get that. Who left it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir. As per Mr. Stark's Secret Santa protocol."

Bucky groaned softly as he reached down and scooped up the basket. Tony had insisted that they all do a Secret Santa exchange for the holidays. The rules were that each gift couldn't be more than $5 and that no one was able to use JARVIS or any of the surveillance cameras to try to figure out who their Secret Santa was.

Bucky had drawn Clint from the hat and winced a bit, not having the faintest clue as to what to get the archer. He finally settled on a box of arrow-shaped Strela candy. Bucky had found a small Russian market in Brighton Beach in Brooklyn and after rummaging around for a good ten minutes, he finally found what he was looking for. The small round box of cognac filled chocolate candy put him back $4.98, but he made it just under Stark's silly spending limit. He'd dropped the box off at Clint's door at the Avengers Tower, glad to be done of his obligation.

He was an accepted member of the group, but he still felt separate, apart from the others. While everyone had been sympathetic to his plight, he really wasn't interested in their pity. It had taken Steve three months to convince Bucky to move into the Tower, taking the one bedroom apartment across the hall from Steve. They'd been inseparable ever since Steve and Sam found him, going on missions together, spending almost all of their free time together. Steve had convinced Bucky to see a therapist to help him manage his PTSD and while it was slow-going, with lots of fits and starts, even Bucky had to admit he was making significant progress. His panic attacks were few and far between and he hardly ever had any nightmares any more.

But, then his metallic arm started to act up and Steve and Sam had to take a mission without him while Tony ran diagnostics and tried to repair it. It was the first time in six months that Bucky had been by himself and he was taking it harder than he should have, holing himself up in his apartment, not wanting to talk to anyone.

Bucky peered into the basket that had been left for him and a smile formed on his face. Inside were three oranges and a dozen old-fashioned peppermint sticks nestled in crinkled strips of green and red tissue paper. He remembered as a child how excited he'd been to get an orange at Christmas time. While citrus fruits were abundant year round nowadays, as a child to get an orange at Christmas had been a special treat that his mother had to save up for. He remembered savoring every section, eating it slowly so that it would last. The red and white peppermints sticks had also been a delicacy, and he'd be lucky if his mother could afford two of them.

For a moment, he wondered if Steve had sent them to cheer him up. "JARVIS, was this delivered by a courier or something like that or was it left by someone in the Tower?"

"It was left by someone in the Tower." JARVIS's tone made it evident he wasn't going to answer any more questions on the matter.

Bucky's shoulders fell. Of course, Steve was on an assignment halfway across the world, taking down an alien arms dealer with Sam. The last thing he'd be doing is sending gift baskets to cheer Bucky up.

Still, at least the person who'd drawn his name had been thoughtful enough to get something that Bucky would really enjoy. At least he'd have a half decent dessert to go along with his crappy dinner.

He carried the basket back to his kitchen table, letting the door shut behind him. He looked at his pathetic attempt at a meal and shook his head. He wasn't going to eat it. He tossed it in the fridge, still not able to throw away even the diciest of meals after living on the run for months. Food was food after all. He grabbed his overcoat, shrugged it on, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was going to go out to dinner. He would treat himself. He looked over at the basket, a smile forming on his face once again.

It was Christmas time after all.

* * *

**Author's Note** \- So, if you're all interested, I'm thinking about doing 12 days of gifts. Because Bucky deserves a little love and care at the holidays, doesn't he?

Reviews/Comments are my favorite Christmas gifts! Well, that and fudge.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 2**

Bucky woke up that next day with a spring in his step and a grin on his face. He had found an amazing Italian bistro the night before and stuffed himself on rigatoni and chicken picatta, saving just enough room for an orange and a peppermint stick before bed.

His sleep had been dreamless, the best kind. No thrashing in his bed, no waking up in a cold sweat panting so hard he could barely breathe. Just the sweet restful blankness that comes with a truly deep sleep.

His arm twitched a bit as he pulled on his pants and shirt and he scowled as he looked down at it. He probably had a couple dozen Hydra technicians poking and prodding it over the decades, each one trying to add to or modify his arm, trying to prove their worth to their leaders by improving on past designs. It had ended up as a hodgepodge of different technologies over the years and it was no wonder when one of the mechanisms began to fail. Before the fall of Hydra, Bucky estimated that he'd only used the arm for three or four months total. They'd wake him up, put him on assignment for a week or so, and then stick him back into cryosleep until his next mission.

But, it had been eight months since they last wiped his memories and tinkered with his arm. Eight months of constant use and his arm was failing. There were uncontrollable tremors and glitches and while Bucky had tried to hide it at first from Sam and Steve, it got to the point where it was obvious to everyone that his arm was malfunctioning more and more. There was no way Bucky could out on a mission until it was repaired. Tony had looked at it briefly before getting called back to California to help Pepper fight a hostile takeover of their company. He assured Bucky it would only be a short delay until he could return to finish up with Bucky's arm.

Which left Bucky stuck at the Tower, a few weeks away from Christmas, with nothing really to do. Clint had offered to teach him the bow and arrow, but more than once his arm spasmed during the lesson, sending the arrow wide of the target. Clint had been more than understanding, but Bucky cut their time short, mumbling something about attending a therapy session, not in the mood to keep up the charade of learning the bow and arrow when he couldn't even keep his own hand straight.

After a quick bowl of oatmeal and brown sugar and a good half pot of black coffee, Bucky decided to head over to the lab to see what Bruce was up to. He genuinely liked the mild-mannered scientist and they'd bonded over the fact that they both knew what it was like to have to struggle against a monster inside that took control and wreaked havoc. And while they both had come a long way in managing their alter egos , they were also both haunted by memories of the past and what they had destroyed.

Bucky was whistling tunelessly to himself as he entered the lab, still cheerful as he thought of the gift from the night before. For a moment, he contemplated breaking Tony's rules and trying to find out the identity of his Secret Santa, if only for the opportunity to thank him. He literally couldn't remember the last time he received a Christmas gift and the fact that the person giving it had taken the time and energy to find something that Bucky would truly enjoy made it all the better.

Bucky saw Bruce at the far corner of the lab, huddled together with Thor and Dr. Foster and Miss Lewis, expounding on the properties of the infinity stones. Given the problems that they encountered in Greenwich with Malekith, Thor and Dr. Foster had decided to set up camp at the Avengers Tower and try to suss out why there seemed to be so much activity around the stones all at once after centuries of silence.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at Miss Lewis, Dr. Foster's assistant. He had to admit to himself that he found her to be the most likable inhabitant of the Tower so far. Unlike the others, she didn't treat him with kid gloves, afraid of setting him off or hurting his feelings. When they bantered, it almost made Bucky feel like his old self, before the war, before everything turned sour.

And it didn't hurt a bit that she reminded him of a pin-up girl from the 40s, despite her penchant for oversized sweaters and knit caps.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Sergeant Barnes," she quipped as he drew near.

"I said you could call me Bucky," he countered, not even bothering to hide his grin.

"Well, then, you'd start calling me Darcy and then people would start getting the wrong idea. Steve told us all the stories, you know. You broke half the hearts in Brooklyn back in the day."

"Just half the hearts?" He waggled his eyebrows for comic effect.

"He was being modest, on your behalf." She grinned at him. "Grab a seat. Save me from all of this egghead talk."

Dr. Foster scowled at her. "Darcy, stop giving Sergeant Barnes a hard time. And don't pretend that you don't know more about this 'egghead' talk than half the physicists in world. You've been right here, by my side, studying the same phenomena that I have for nearly four years. Admit it. You love it."

"Yes, fine, whatever. You've swayed me to the dark side. Hard sciences." Darcy shuddered dramatically. "If my poly sci professors could see me now . . ."

"I am sure that they would be more than proud of you, Darcy. You have proven yourself to have a quick and nimble mind." Thor chuckled. "You are a true asset to this team."

"I should put that quote on my Tinder profile. Maybe finally, someone would swipe right."

"Darcy!" Dr. Foster blushed and while Bucky didn't know exactly what Darcy was referring to, he could tell that Dr. Foster was embarrassed.

"Speaking of science, perhaps we should get back to it?" Bruce suggested, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Bucky settled down in the seat next to Darcy, looking forward to the next few hours.

000000

While Bucky only understood half of what was talked about that day, he had to admit, he enjoyed himself more than he thought he would as Thor, Dr. Foster, and Bruce wrangled with defining the different properties of the infinity stones. From time to time, Darcy would lean over to explain a term or phrase and her hot breath in his ear would send a shiver down his spine. If he were his old self, he would have asked out a thousand times already.

But, he wasn't his old self and he was still trying to figure who he really was. He wasn't the Bucky from before the war. He'd seen too much. He'd done too much.

But neither was he the Winter Soldier anymore. He was his own man. He just needed to find out what that meant.

They all ate lunch together, Chinese takeout from a local delivery place. Bucky actually enjoyed it, even after Darcy stole his egg roll and stuck her tongue out at him when he protested. They finished up around six and while Bucky's head was swimming from staring at computer simulations all day, he had to admit he enjoyed himself more than he thought possible.

"We're going Christmas shopping," Darcy announced as Dr. Foster started packing up her laptop. "We're going to introduce Thor to a mall Santa and see who knows more Scandinavian myths. Wanna join us?"

_Yes. I don't want to be stuck in my apartment all night. Yes. A thousand times yes_ , Bucky thought.

Only what he said was, "Nah. I'm going to turn in early."

"Your loss, Barnes. You're missing the opportunity to see Thor sitting on Santa's lap. It's going to be my phone screensaver for the rest of my life."

"You'll just have to show it to me tomorrow," he replied.

"You're coming by tomorrow?" Darcy asked and Bucky didn't know if it was his imagination, but she sounded hopeful.

"Sure. Why not? It's good to know what we're up against. And I'm useless without my arm working right."

"You're not useless. Don't you ever say that," Darcy said with a ferocity that caused Bucky's eyes to widen.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "Um . . . have fun shopping."

"We will," Dr. Foster said, taking Thor by the arm and walking towards the door.

"See you tomorrow," Darcy called over her shoulder as she followed the pair towards the door.

Once they'd left, Bucky sat down heavily, mad at himself for blowing his chance to escape his apartment for the night.

"She's a beautiful woman," Bruce observed as he powered down his own laptop.

"Yeah, I suppose." He wasn't about to admit how he felt to Bruce, despite them being friends.

"Do you want some friendly advice?"

"No."

Bruce turned back to him and grinned. "Well, I'm going to give it to you anyhow. Don't shut yourself away from the world. I made that mistake with Betty. I regret it to this day."

"I'm a wreck, Bruce."

"So's everyone you meet. Some of them just hide it better than others," Bruce said as he closed his laptop. "Wanna grab some dinner? There's a diner nearby that serves hamburgers the size of footballs."

Bucky chuckled. "I'd pay to see that."

0000000

Bucky was back at his apartment at eight and his stomach was so full, he was sure that he was going to be sick. He decided that the next time he went to dinner with Bruce he would most definitely not try to win a T-shirt by chowing down on a three pound hamburger. But, on the plus side, he now had a Christmas present for Sam when he came back from his mission.

He almost stepped on his second Christmas gift, a small red envelope next to his door. As he walked into the apartment, he read the inscription on the front. " _Play me"_

He tore into the envelope and inside was a thumbdrive.

"Um . . . JARVIS . . . did my Secret Santa leave this for me?" The last thing he wanted to do was crash his laptop by introducing a virus into it.

"Yes, sir."

"Could you . . . uh . . . scan it for viruses?"

"Already done, sir. None were found."

Bucky sat down at the kitchen table, turned on his laptop, inserted the USB drive, and opened the file marked  _Christmas Music_.

He clicked on the first song and the room was filled with Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas." And all of a sudden, Bucky was twenty-three again. It was 1941 and it was Christmas and he was with his family and everything that had happened in the past seventy years had just washed away. He closed his eyes, lost in memories.

The next song was "The First Noel" by Eddy Nelson. He grinned as he remembered his mother singing that in church, her clear alto voice filling the sanctuary.

He listened to song after song from the 1930s and 40s, original recordings that he hadn't heard in decades. Each one brought happy memories of his past. As he listened to them, he could practically smell his mother baking spiced cinnamon cookies, his favorite treat at the holidays. He put the songs on repeat and fell asleep to them that night playing softly in the background.

Whoever his Secret Santa was, they knew just what to do to bring Bucky some peace. The songs made him remember a time when he was safe and loved and he couldn't have asked for anything better for the holidays.

* * *

**Author's Note** \- Oh my! Your reviews and comments were so amazingly encouraging. I am truly overwhelmed. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will fully admit that one of my motivations for writing is your enthusiasm and encouragement. You are the best!

By the way, my personal headcanon is that Bucky was kept up to date on all the various technological advances every time he was awakened as the Winter Soldier. You'd hardly want to your assassin to freak out over a microwave, which is why Bucky is comfortable working with a laptop. However, changes in society and popular culture were neglected by his Hydra handlers, which leads to some uncomfortable instances of "culture shock" for Bucky.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3**

Bucky awoke the next morning to the strains of "O Holy Night" playing from his laptop. He grinned. Usually, he preferred dreamless nights, but last night he dreamed of getting a little red cast iron car for Christmas when he was six. He remembered zooming the toy car all around the living room, much to his poor mother's consternation when she nearly tripped over him a number of times. But, it didn't matter. He played with that toy for hours, imagining all the far off lands he would race to and all the adventures he would have.

He smiled at the memory. He'd forgotten how excited he used to get at Christmas time, how magical the season felt. He was surprised how it all rushed back to him from hearing just a few old Christmas carols.

He ate an orange along with his oatmeal for breakfast, taking his time to enjoy each section. His stomach had settled down from the night before, thanks to the super-serum metabolism, no doubt. He rushed through his meal, eager to return to the lab.

0000000

"You missed out, Barnes. We got Thor to sit on Santa's lap, try a caramel apple, and had him join in with some mall carolers," Darcy crowed as Bucky walked into the lab that morning.

"The apple was impossible to eat. I don't know how you Midgardians can handle that amount of sugar," Thor declared, shuddering slightly.

"Jane and I ate ours," Darcy pointed out.

"It's okay, Thor. I had a stomachache afterwards. You were right to throw yours away." Jane patted Thor on his shoulder.

"And the Santa photos?" Bucky asked as he settled in the seat next to Darcy.

She whipped out her phone and sure enough, there was a photo of Thor awkwardly sitting on Santa's lap with Jane standing next to him. It was actually a cute couple photo, although Thor was scowling a bit.

Bucky looked up and saw the way that Jane was looking at Thor and he swallowed a bit.  _She really loves him_ , he thought. He knew that they were a couple, but seeing the devotion in her eyes was a bit jarring. He'd thought of her as simply a dedicated scientist, but her obvious affection for Thor was heartwarming to see.

"Sorry I missed it," Bucky said.

"Like I said, your loss," Darcy said breezily, stowing her phone . "Ready to get your science on?"

Bucky shrugged, not really knowing what to say. He didn't think he could really contribute. He was planning on mostly observing anyhow. "Sure."

000000

The second day passed much like the first as Thor and the scientists continued to explore the properties of the infinity stones. Bucky began to recognize more and more terms that they were using, although he still barely grasped what they were going on about. He didn't mind at all when Darcy would lean over and explain things, breathing in the light floral scent of her shampoo as her hair brushed his cheek.

Lunch was Mexican that day, once again delivered. Bucky downed a carne asada burrito that was so large he had to use two hands. Once again, Darcy stole one of his taquitos, but he just growled at her playfully. Thor finished two burritos and a half dozen taquitos before declaring himself full. It seemed his Asgardian metabolism kept him just as hungry as Bucky's super-serum.

Once six rolled around, Jane started to stretch and yawn a bit while Bruce started to power down his laptop.

"So, are you going to the mall again tonight?" Bucky asked Darcy, trying to come off as casual instead of fishing for an invitation.

"Nah, we're all heading out to Jane's aunt's house in Jersey for the weekend. She hasn't met Thor yet. I hope her furniture can handle him."

"It was one time, Darcy. One time. How was I to know that you Midgardians use straw to construct your chairs?" Thor groused.

"It was wicker. Jane's mom still hasn't forgiven you," Darcy replied.

"Yes, she has. He bought her a new chair. It'll be fine. My aunt will love you," Jane assured Thor.

"She will?" Bucky could detect a note of hopefulness in Thor's tone.

"Well, let's put it this way. I love you. Anyone else's opinion is moot," Jane declared, wrapping her arms around Thor and giving him a tight hug.

"See what I'm going to have to put up with all weekend? Seriously, they are the world's most perfect couple. Being a third wheel sucks," Darcy complained.

"Yep, that's how it is around Tony and Pepper," Bruce supplied. "Well, with more snark."

Bucky thought back on all the double dates with Steve where he was stuck with a girl while Bucky made time with her friend. He winced, realizing how hard it must have been for Steve. Now that he was feeling firsthand what it was like to be around a happy couple while single, he understood how disheartening it must have been for Steve.

"So . . . are you coming back to the lab on Monday?" Darcy asked.

"Yeah . . . why not?" Bucky replied, still not looking forward to the weekend by himself.

000000

Bucky turned down Bruce's offer to grab dinner, holing himself up in his apartment feeling more than a little sorry for himself. He forced himself to eat a few microwaved dinners, eating them without really tasting anything.

He thought about playing the Christmas music to cheer himself up, but he really couldn't muster the energy. He was mad at himself for letting the fact that Darcy was going to be gone for a couple of days affect him so much. It wasn't like they were going out or anything. He enjoyed her company, but he shouldn't be so down just because she was out of town.

His phone buzzed and he smiled as he grabbed it. It was a text from Steve.

_**-Sorry, buddy. I've been on radio silence for the past week. I can only send out this one text and then I've got to power down my phone. Hope you're doing well. Looks like Sam and I will be back in about a week and a half or so, plenty of time before Christmas. You taking care of yourself?** _

Bucky wanted to lie, but he had promised Steve that he'd be up front with him.

_-I am now. You watch your back._

_**\- I will. I've got to turn off the phone now. I'll text you when I can.** _

Bucky started at the phone for a good long minute when he heard the familiar buzzing sound at his front door. He smiled and nearly ran for the door, flinging it open. There was a small red aluminum disposable pan of homemade rich chocolate fudge sitting in front of the door. His mouth began to water as he scooped up the pan and smelled the fudge, inhaling in the sweet aroma.

He grinned. Three gifts in three days. It seemed he had the best Secret Santa in the Tower.

* * *

**Author's Note** \- You are the most amazing readers ever! Oh my! You're sweet comments have made my whole week. I love writing Darcy/Bucky and I feel like I'm going to have to make it a habit. Thank you so very much for your sweet reviews.

By the way, if any of you do know a good recipe for homemade fudge, please let me know!

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4**

Bucky woke up the next morning with the taste of fudge still lingering on his tongue. He had only eaten half the pan, which he considered a monumental feat of self-control. He groaned a bit as he thought of the day ahead. It was a Saturday and he literally had nothing to do. He'd already gotten Steve a Christmas present, an expensive set of oil paints, an easel, and a half dozen canvases in various sizes.

Steve would never spend so much money on himself, but it pained Bucky to see how little Steve sketched or drew anymore. As a child, Steve's notebooks were always full of doodles and illustrations, his mind pushing the boundaries where his body limited him. The last time they were in a meeting together, Bucky peeked at Steve's notepad and was disappointed to just see his friend's usual scrawling script.

And well, the hamburger contest T-shirt was for Sam, because Bucky knew it would make him laugh.

_I could get Darcy a Christmas present_ , he thought idlely as he got dressed, but he shook his head almost immediately. He barely knew the woman. She still referred to him as Sergeant Barnes. He was getting ahead of himself.

After a quick breakfast, he settled down on the couch, flipping the T.V. to an old movie channel. He zoned out for a few hours, letting himself slip back to a time when things were easier, when the answers made sense. He knew it was indulgent and wrong to wrap his mind in the past, but sometimes it was all he had to cling to.

00000

After a lackluster lunch of canned soup and wolfing down the rest of the fudge, Buck looked around his apartment with unease. He couldn't imagine spending the rest of the day there, but the idea of trudging outside in the slushy snow and the hordes of crazed Christmas shoppers wasn't appealing either.

After a few moments of deliberation, he finally changed into some sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and sneakers. He grabbed his phone and headphones and headed out the door.

Steve had become a regular gym rat, even though the super-serum hardly made it a necessity. Bucky wondered if it was because he remembered what it was like before the serum, when he could barely jog a block, when going up a flight of stairs left him winded. Maybe spending so much time at the gym was a way of reminding himself of how far he had come.

There was a gym for Tower residents located a floor below theirs and Bucky decided to use his extra time getting a workout in. Bucky took the steps down two at a time, glad to finally have something useful to do. Once he arrived at the gym, he made a beeline for the treadmill. Although it only went up to 12 miles per hour, the easy gait helped to clear his mind. His therapist had suggested exercise to help stabilize him, and while Bucky first thought the advice was ridiculous, he had to admit that he felt calmer and more centered after an hour of running. He focused only on the air rushing in and out of his lungs, his feet pounding up and down. His thoughts seemed to slip away as he just concentrate on the easy rhythm of his legs pumping.

He stopped after an hour, not because he had to, but because the running had served his purpose. He no longer felt out of sorts and anxious. He began to towel off when he noticed Clint walk in. He was whistling to himself and gave Bucky a short wave as he drew near.

"You're in a good mood," Bucky observed.

"Yeah. I figured out who my Secret Santa is," Clint boasted. He began to add weights to either side of the long barbell over one of the padded benches.

Bucky's eyes widened. He had tried to be as stealthy as possible when it came to leaving his gift. He hated the thought that he had ruined the surprise for Clint. "You have?"

"Nat and I had a mission out in St. Petersburg five years back. It was near Christmas and I almost OD'd on this Strela candy. I must have eaten five tins of the stuff. It was addictive. And guess what I find as my Secret Santa gift?"

"Um . . . candy?"

"Yep! The same exact brand and all. She likes to act all tough, but she's a real cream puff underneath. Five years. I can't believe she remembered," Clint crowed.

Bucky nodded, wincing a bit. He hoped Clint wouldn't be too disappointed when he found out that he was his Secret Santa.

Clint lied down on the bench, curling his fingers around the bar bell.

"Um . . . do you need a spotter?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah . . . probably. You know, some of us have to work for our muscles," Clint joked as he began his first rep.

Bucky didn't reply, instead taking position behind Clint, ready to grab the bar if he faltered.

"So, how you holding up?" Clint bit out the words, straining with each lift.

Bucky shrugged. "I have good days and bad days." There was really no reason to lie.

"And today?"

"Not so great."

"Nightmares?" Clint slowly brought the bar up, his arms wobbling a bit.

Bucky shook his head. "Not lately . . . but the truth is . . . it's still there. Buzzing around in the back of my mind. What I did. What Hydra made me do. Sometimes, I don't feel like I should be here. Like I don't deserve to be here."

Clint's eyes narrowed. He roughly set the bar bell in its rest and quickly sat up, turning to stare at Bucky. "Loki killed eighty S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in two days," he said bluntly. "Who do you think helped him do that? Who do you think gave him all the intel he needed?"

Bucky blinked. He'd read about it, of course. But the venom and pain dripping from Clint's words hit him like a blow.

"You think you're the only one who's been twisted against their will? You think you're the only one who's ever been hollowed out so that someone else could use and and manipulate them? I knew most of those agents. Hell, a couple of them were my friends." Clint's voice broke on the last word, and he looked down for a moment. "You're not alone, Bucky."

"I . . . I'm sorry," Bucky said softly.

"Look, what you did wasn't your fault. You can't carry that burden. You need to lay it down," Clint insisted.

"It isn't that easy."

Clint gave him a half-grin. "Nothing worth doing is. But, you've got to forgive yourself. It wasn't your fault."

Bucky took a deep breath. "Have you? Forgiven yourself?"

Clint gave a short bark of a laugh. "That's a fair question. Yes and no. Sometimes, I catch myself beating myself up about it. I try not to, but I don't always practice what I preach." He shook his head. "Speaking of nothing worth doing being easy, I need to finish my reps." He lied down again on the bench and looked up at Bucky. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I am."

000000

Later that night, Clint's words kept repeating themselves in Bucky's brain. Forgiveness. It seemed like such an easy concept. Letting go of the past. Truly being free from Hydra, from what they did to him. From what they made him do.

_Am I really ready to let go?_ he wondered as he heard the familiar buzz of the front door.

And as he opened the door, he looked down. On his doorstep, tied in a big red bow, lay a pair of charcoal gray hand-knit gloves. He picked them up, looking up and down the hall in vain. He smiled at the fact that there were two of them. It's hardly like his left hand felt cold. Or heat. Or anything at all.

He slipped them on and he had never felt yarn that soft before. It reminded him a bit of his mother, knitting wool socks for his dad or baby blankets for their neighbors when they were expecting. He remembered a tiny green blanket that he slept under as a child, his favorite gift from his mother.

He rubbed the tips of his right fingers together, gliding his thumb along, reveling in the feel of the glove. Someone had spent hours making him a handmade gift. His Secret Santa must be someone special.

_Four presents in four days_ , he thought.  _I can hardly wait until tomorrow._

* * *

**Author's Note** \- Oh my! You are all the absolute best. I have no other words for it. You are the most encouraging readers ever! I am just blown away by your kindness.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 5**

Sunday, Bucky awoke earlier than usual. Working out had helped to settle his mind a bit. Talking to Clint helped a lot, too. It wasn't like he had said anything Bucky hadn't heard before. Both Steve and Sam (his therapist, too) had gone on and on about how he needed to forgive himself for what the Winter Soldier did.

And, to their faces at least, he agreed with them.

It was better than it used to be. Before Steve and Sam found him, he was holed up in an abandoned cabin in the woods, as far off the grid as he could get, desperately doing anything he could to keep off Hydra's radar. It was a nightmarish existence as his memories came back to him in waves, as the panic attacks and nightmares of his time with Hydra set in.

But, they found him, got him a therapist, set him on the right path to becoming whole again.

_I just need to keep walking down that path_ , he thought as he got dressed and made his breakfast.  _Putting one foot in front of the other._

000000

He whiled away the day getting some chores done. He bought groceries for the week, this time avoiding frozen meals entirely. It's not like he didn't have enough time to cook himself a proper dinner. And while he couldn't prepare food like his mother could, he remembered enough of her favorite dishes to make a decent go of it.

He did his laundry, too, since he was down to his last pair of clean underwear. He thought of his mother as he cleaned, realizing how happy she would have been to be surrounded by all of the modern conveniences he had at his fingertips - a washer, a dryer, an electric iron, a dishwasher, a microwave, a vacuum. What would have taken her several hours to accomplish, he finished in a few minutes.

By the evening, the apartment was sparkling, smelling faintly of lemon and vinegar, and even his mother would have approved of how it looked. He was surprised to hear a knock on the door and when he opened it up, his eyes widened even more.

"Can I come in?" Natasha asked. She was in civilian gear, jeans tucked into dark brown boots, paired with a blue sweater with a shawl collar.

He waved her in and she sat down on the overstuffed easy chair facing the couch. He settled down on the couch, feeling a bit uneasy. They'd barely spoken since he moved in, more for the fact that she was constantly away on assignment than for any other reason.

"I wanted to know. Did you get Clint the Strela candy?" she asked him.

"Uhhh . . . how did you guess?"

"You spent a fair amount of time in Mother Russia," she said with a sarcastic grin. "You're the only other person in the Tower that would know about that type of candy."

"Sorry. I didn't have any idea that it had some special meaning for the two of you."

She shrugged. "He now thinks I'm a lot more thoughtful than I really am. It's not the worst problem." She crossed her arms in front of herself and paused for a moment. "He said you're still having a hard time adjusting."

"Yeah . . . a bit."

"Liar," she said indulgently. "You and I . . . we're a lot alike."

"Really?"

"I was trained from childhood to do one thing. Complete my missions, regardless of the body count. I finally thought I was on the side of good with S.H.I.E.L.D. and well . . . you remember how everything blew up in D.C. I ended up being manipulated once again. Just like you were."

He looked up at her, forcing himself not to flinch as the memories came back to him. "I shot you. In Odessa . . . . in D.C. I tried to kill you."

"I remember," she said quietly. "I also remember trying to kill you right back." Her mouth quirked into a little grin.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't me. I would never do that."

"I know. I forgive you, but you don't need my forgiveness."

"I don't?"

She nodded. "Like you said, you didn't do it. It was him. The Winter Soldier. And he's dead and gone."

"He doesn't feel gone. He feels like a ghost. Always there. Tainting everything."

She gave a short bark of a laugh. "You're preaching to the choir on that one." Then, she grew serious. "I still remember the Red Room. Remember the hours of indoctrination. Remember every single life I've taken."

"How do you . . ." His voice trailed off and he looked down at his hands, lost in the memories of each target he had eliminated.

"Keep going on? I try to balance the scales, the best that I can. Help people, protect them. Do good instead of evil. Save lives instead of take them. We need you, Bucky. We need you on our team. After D.C. . . . we need everyone we can get."

"Thanks . . . I appreciate it." For the first time, he was really starting to feel like a real member of the Avengers.

Natasha stood and gave him another smile. "I should have come by earlier and given you the big recruitment speech but you were always away on a mission with Sam and Steve."

Bucky's arm twitched and his lip curl in disgust. He had asked Bruce to look at it, but he demurred, saying that Tony wanted to get his hands on it and had threatened him if he tried to 'mess with it'. He didn't like being stuck at the Tower with nothing to do for so long.

"Down time getting to you, isn't it?" she observed as she made her way towards the door.

"That obvious?"

She chuckled. "I heard you were spending a lot of time at the lab."

"Yeah . . . . not much else to do," he admitted.

"And it doesn't hurt that there's a gorgeous intern hanging out there all day long."

Bucky snorted as he opened the door for her. "Steve warned me that you were quite the little matchmaker."

"I'm a woman of many talents," she called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall towards her own apartment.

00000

Two hours later, he was looking down at his fifth Secret Santa present, a DVD of the 1938 version of The Christmas Carol.  _This is getting out of hand,_  Bucky thought. He went to the kitchen table, grabbing a pen and paper from the counter on his way. He sat down and began to scrawl out a short note.

_Dear Secret Santa,_

_Thank you for the gifts. You shouldn't have gone to all the trouble. I really do appreciate them. But, there was a spending cap on our gifts, remember? I don't want you to go into hock._

_Sincerely,_

_Bucky_

Bucky frowned at the note, not really knowing the right way to word it. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful, but it was just getting to be too much. He addressed it to "Bucky's Secret Santa" and placed the note carefully in front of his door, hoping that they got it before spending any more money on him.

Of course, he watched the movie before he went to bed that night. He remembered seeing it in the movie theater near Christmas time, dragging poor Steve along on one of their disastrous double dates. If he remembered correctly, Steve's date was a pain and talked incessantly about herself, ignoring poor Steve.

Once it ended, he shut off the TV and got ready for bed, briefly wondering how "Scrooge-like" he'd been in the past few days. He'd begrudged even buying the smallest of Christmas gifts for Clint. He hadn't bothered to decorate his apartment or make any holiday plans at all. If not for his Secret Santa, he would have been skipping the holiday altogether.

His last thought before he fell asleep that night was that the next day was Monday and that he'd get the chance to see Darcy.

* * *

**Author's note** \- You are all so wonderful! Your comments and review just make my day!

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Day 6**

The next day was Monday and Bucky even went so far as to put an alarm on his phone to make sure he got up in time. He knew that everyone seemed to convene around the lab at 9, but he didn't want to miss a minute of it. He took a quick shower, got dressed, and bolted down his breakfast. He finished half a pot of coffee and then filled up a travel mug of it to bring to the lab like he'd seen the others do. He debated bringing an extra cup of coffee for Darcy, but it felt too pushy and he ultimately rejected the idea.

When he stepped outside his door, whistling the tune of "Away in the Manger" since it had been running through his head, he nearly stepped on a note that had been printed out on a computer.

He picked it up and read it.

_Believe me, I'm following Stark's rules. None of my gifts are going to cost me more than $5. DVDs are cheap these days, especially old ones._

_Merry Christmas, Bucky_

He smiled as he read the note and then frowned when he reread it. " _None of my gifts are going to cost me more than $5."_ His Secret Santa was going to keep on buying him gifts. All of a sudden, he felt bad about the Strela candy for Clint. He'd buy him another gift, but since Clint was convinced it was Natasha giving him the gifts, Bucky didn't want to cause any more confusion.

00000

"You missed us, admit it, Bucky!" Those were the first words out of Darcy's mouth as she walked into the lab to see Bucky sitting next to Bruce, sipping on his coffee.

"It wasn't the same without you", Bucky admitted, glad to finally hear her use his first name.

"Here . . . here. Give me your phone." She held out her hand as she approached him.

He typed in the passcode and handed it over to her. "Okay."

Her fingers flew over the keyboard and after few seconds, she looked up with a triumphant grin. "That's better."

"What did you do?"

She gave him a wink. "I texted myself with your phone. Now I have your number and you have mine."

Bucky bit back a laugh at her enthusiasm. "What did you write in your text?"

" _Darcy, you're the best_  . . . I thought we should start this whole texting thing on the right foot." She paused for a moment. "You doing anything tonight?

Bucky wasn't about to screw up the chance to spend time with her a second time. "No."

She took a deep breath. "We went to Jane's aunt's church yesterday. They're doing a toy drive for a bunch of the foster kids in the area. My . . . my best friend from elementary school was a foster kid. I remember how tough it was for her around Christmas. So, we're hitting the mall tonight and picking up a ton of toys for the kiddos. Do you wanna come?"

He stared at her for a moment, seeing her with new eyes, a bit overwhelmed by her sense of generosity. "Yeah . . . I would."

She nodded quickly and then plowed ahead. "And then . . . um we're going to deliver them on Sunday at the church. I've even convinced Thor to dress up like Santa for them."

Bucky grinned at the mental image. "Well, I gotta see that in person. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good." She blushed a bit. " . . . I mean the kids will enjoy seeing you."

"I'll be there," he promised.

0000000

The day went by pleasantly enough. Being mere inches from a beautiful gal wasn't the worst way Bucky had spent his days, not by a long shot. It was a little more frustrating than he'd like to admit acting as an observer rather than a participant, but he merely tried to focus and work on his patience.

Lunch was burgers delivered from the nearby diner that he'd gone to with Bruce. Right on cue, Darcy tried to steal at least half of his fries as he rolled his eyes at her antics. And, if sharing food together meant that they had to sit even closer together, Bucky wasn't going to object one bit.

By three that afternoon, Bucky had to admit, if only to himself, that he was beginning to drift. He tried to pay attention, but he felt sleepy from the huge lunch and Bruce's droning monotone while he explained something about magnetic variations.

He nearly nodded off when his eyes went wide at something he saw on the computer screen.

"Wait, I've seen that symbol before," Bucky said, his head rearing back in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked as he turned to look at him.

"Um . . . on one of the chalkboards in the lab . . . where Hydra had me." One time between wipes, they kept him strapped down to the machine for hours, virtually ignoring him as his muscles ached. He remembered staring at that chalkboard, memorizing each line, the only thing that quieted the horrible buzzing in the back of his brain.

"Hydra had the Tesseract for months during World War 2. They studied it in depth. The amount of knowledge that they could have on it would be profound," Jane explained to Darcy.

"What can you remember about that symbol?" Thor intoned gravely.

"Um . . . . give me a piece of paper and pencil. Let me try to recreate what I saw."

Bruce scrambled to his desk, grabbing a pen and a notebook, thrusting them into Bucky's waiting hands.

As Bucky began to scrawl over the paper, closing his eyes to try to recall all of the symbols and equations that he had seen, Thor, Jane, and Bruce craned their necks, crowding around him as they tried to get a glimpse of what he was writing.

"Of course . . . that makes sense," Jane began, waving to one of the equations.

"Can you see there? That describes how the infinity stones are connected together," Bruce pointed to another equation.

"The power that would be unleashed if they were ever united . . . for all we know . . . it could lay waste to entire realms," Thor warned and all of the color drained from his face. He clapped a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "The information you have given us . . . it is invaluable."

Bucky gave him a wan smile, grateful to finally have something useful to contribute. "Thanks."

000000

"You did great today," Darcy said to Bucky as they began to pack up their things around six. "I've never seen Jane that excited. Well . . . about anything other than Thor."

"Darcy!" Jane shouted, shaking her head.

"What? It's true. I mean you do geek out about the science stuff, but never this hard," Darcy replied.

"The information that Bucky gave us was priceless. It changes everything that we know about the infinity stones." Jane gave Bucky a kind smile. "We really can't thank you enough."

"You did well, my friend," Thor said to Bucky. "And I am pleased that you will be joining us tonight. I fear that Darcy likes to make sport of me and my ignorance of Midgardian customs and traditions."

"Mistletoe is meant to be enjoyed," Darcy shot back.

"And it was," Jane said, with a mischievous grin, giving Thor a tight hug.

"You coming with us?" Bucky asked Bruce.

"Nah . . . I've got a couple things I want to work on. Thanks for the invite. I'll see you guys tomorrow," Bruce said.

"Bright and early," Bucky promised.

000000

At the mall, it seemed as if each of the four tried to outdo the others in terms of gifts for the foster children. When they finally finished shopping, Bucky nearly collapsed as they finally sat down at the food court to get a quick bite to eat. He scowled a bit as they sat down and his metal arm began to spasm once again. He'd been trying to not use it quite so much, but it was impossible with all the gifts that they had gotten.

"I can't believe how many toys you bought," Bucky said to Darcy. He ended up carrying her purchases as well as his own when they got too heavy for her.

Darcy shrugged. "I finally have a little money now that Tony's funding all of Jane's research. I'm no longer an unpaid intern. I am now a very well paid intern with free housing at the Tower. Plus, I'm great at getting coupons and bargain hunting."

Bucky nodded, impressed by the deals she had gotten.

"Dinner's on me," Jane declared as she and Thor laid down their shopping bags next to Bucky's and Darcy's. "My aunt's going to be so happy when she sees all these toys. You guys are really going to make her Christmas."

"Jane's paying. Let's get lobster," Darcy quipped.

"We're at a food court," Jane reminded her.

"Corn dog and fries?" Darcy replied. "With a shake?"

"That's more like it," Jane grinned.

Bucky smiled at their easy camaraderie and relaxed, feeling lucky to be accepted as part of their group.

00000

That night as he returned to his apartment, laden down with his purchases, he bit back a smile as he saw what was resting next to his door. It was a small pan of homemade divinity with a big red bow on it. A tiny tag was attached to it.

_Because you deserve something sweet,_

_Your Secret Santa_

* * *

Author's Note- You all are so very sweet yourselves! Thank you for all of the amazingly kind reviews and comments!

P.S. - Someone asked if I'm in Europe or a night owl since I tend to update late at night. I'm a night owl in the U.S. I only get a chance to write very late at night and I've been sacrificing sleep to write this fic. But your kind encouragement has made it worth it!

 


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note- There were a few questions about divinity. It's a candy that you can make with sugar, corn syrup, egg whites, and chopped nuts (like pecans). It's got a heavenly taste, ergo the name. Google the recipe. It's really yummy!

* * *

**Day 7**

Tuesday, Bucky awoke with one thought running through his head.

He was sweet on Darcy.

He grinned at the idea of it. She was right. He had more than his fair share of romantic conquests in his day. And while he may not have romanced half of Brooklyn, he'd peg the number at least 12%.

But that feeling in the pit of his stomach. The butterflies. The slight intake of his breath when he saw her. The way he could close his eyes and recreate every detail of her.

Well, that was a completely new experience.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he got ready that morning. He'd ask her out. It would be as easy as that.

But, then there was that pesky voice in the back of his head. Reminding him that he was broken. That he wasn't the Bucky from before.

He pushed those thoughts out of his head as he combed his hair, using his right hand only as his left was struck with repeated tremors. He needed to just focus. His therapist was right. He needed to focus on the present. In a few minutes he was going to be sitting next to one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met and the last thing he needed to think about was his past.

His apartment door buzzed and he furrowed his brow. It was barely eight. As he opened the door, he looked down at the small box with the signature red bow. It was a string of white blinking Christmas lights.

_Have fun getting into the Christmas mood,_

_Your Secret Santa_

He grinned. His Secret Santa hadn't even waited a whole day to give him yet another gift. He spent the next few minutes fiddling with the lights, finally deciding to put them across the mantel of his faux fireplace, giving the living room a cheery glow as he plugged them in.

_It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas_ , he thought as he began to fix himself some breakfast.

0000000

He walked into the lab that day with an extra mug of coffee to see everyone already hard at work. Darcy's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Is that for me?"

"It is." He grinned as he handed it over to her.

She held the coffee up to her nose and breathed in the aroma before taking an experimental taste. "Milk and plenty of sugar, just the way I like it. I could just kiss you."

"Maybe later on tonight," he replied roguishly as he took the chair next to hers.

"Bucky Barnes, are you flirting with me?" She gave him an impish grin as she sipped her drink.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Then, yes. I am definitely flirting with you," Bucky replied with a wink.

Bruce chuckled and shook his head. He stood up and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Jane.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"She figured it would take you a week. I gave it ten days," Bruce explained.

"Were you in on this?" Bucky asked Thor.

Thor took out his wallet and passed the cash over to Jane, giving Bucky a shrug. "I was. I was sure that you would have declared your intentions by the third day."

"Natasha had day five," Jane explained as she counted up her money.

"And Clint?" Bucky sputtered.

"Day two. He's a hopeless romantic," Bruce said. "Although, he'll deny it."

"You were all in on it?" Bucky crossed his arms in front of him.

Darcy shook her head. "Hey, it's news to me. Although I definitely would have stepped up my game if I knew there was money riding on this," she teased.

"Okay . . . okay. As fun and profitable as this has all been, we had better get back to the infinity stones," Jane quipped.

"I fear that Jane is right. We need to make sure that we fully understand how they are connected," Thor agreed, taking his seat next to Jane.

And with that, they began to work.

0000000

Lunch that day was Mexican once again and Bucky made sure he sat next to Darcy as they ate. The morning had been tiring. He tried to be as helpful as possible, but he really couldn't recall much more than what he'd already given them.

But having Darcy by his side made the time pass quickly.

They devoured their food when it arrived, the smell of carnitas causing everyone's mouth to water. Darcy polished off her tacos in short order, helping herself to the huge plate of chips and salsa that Thor and Jane had ordered. Then, she reached out to snag one of Bucky's taquitos and he went to playfully bat her hand away.

Only Darcy was sitting on his left side.

His metal arm spasmed uncontrollably and careened into her chair. Darcy fell backwards, her head smashing into the corner of the desk behind her as she tumbled.

In an instant, he was by her side, kneeling next to her as she lay on the floor. "Darcy, Darcy. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. Issss okay," she slurred as she slowly lifted her head up and looked at him with unfocused eyes.

Bucky's eyes widened at the crimson stain on the white marble floor, her dark hair sticky with blood.

"Maybe . . . maybe I'm not so okay," she managed as she sank back down and her eyes fluttered shut.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 8**

On Wednesday, Bucky awoke at half past nine with a groan. He'd been up half the night with hellish nightmares that had seemed freakishly real. He had thrashed about in bed so badly that he'd knocked over his lamp; its base lay shattered on the ground.

He winced as he opened his eyes. His head felt thick and foggy and his eyes felt gritty. For a moment, one of his dreams returned to him. It began with him as the Winter Soldier, stalking his target through a darkened alley. In the distance, he saw his victim, a silhouette scurrying away in the shadows. He took aim and fired and the shadow fell bonelessly to the ground. He jogged over to confirm the kill, turning over the woman's body to see her face.

Darcy's face.

Bucky shook his head, trying to remind himself that it was just a nightmare. That he hadn't tried to hurt Darcy on purpose. That he would never hurt her on purpose.

_But you would have in the past_ , the voice inside his head reminded him.  _If Hydra had ordered you, you would have extinguished her life without a second thought. Just like you murdered all the others._

A sharp knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he considered not opening the door. But, finally, he pushed himself out of bed, padding over to the door and opening it.

Bruce stood there with an uncertain smile on his face. "Um . . . you weren't at the lab this morning."

"Uh . . . I don't know if I'll be coming back." Bucky sighed. "I've been about as useful as I can. You don't need me anymore."

Bruce brushed past him, walking into the apartment. "I wouldn't say that. Your contributions have been invaluable. And Darcy shows off when you're around. She's been much more helpful lately."

"How . . . how is she?" Bucky asked, not looking forward to the answer.

"She's going to be okay. Head wounds just bleed a lot. She didn't even need to get admitted to the hospital. Jane stayed at her apartment overnight and checked on her every couple of hours. She's completely fine. She just needs a little rest."

"It could have been a lot worse," Bucky said dully.

"But it wasn't," Bruce insisted.

"But, it could have been!" Bucky shouted, his right fist clenching. "You just don't get it. She's not the first person I've hurt, Bruce. I've shot people. Slashed them to pieces. Choked the life out of them. There is so much blood on my hands and there's nothing I can do about it."

Bruce gave him a calming smile. "You're not him any more. You're not the Winter Soldier."

"I'm not? You really think that?" Bucky scoffed. "No one's safe around me. I saw my arm hit her chair and it was just like before. Seeing myself hurt someone and not being able to stop myself."

Bruce gave a deep sigh, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, I'm going to call Tony. Get him out here. Get your arm all fixed up."

"He can't fix what's really wrong with me. No one can."

Bruce took a deep breath. "How about your therapist?"

"I don't think . . ."

"Make an appointment. Now." Bruce's steely gaze brooked no argument.

Bucky nodded and went over to his landline. He wasn't even sure where his cell phone was. A few moments later, he hung up, giving Bruce a wan smile. "I can come in this afternoon. First appointment after lunch."

"You do that. If you don't go to that appointment, I'm having Thor drag you there," Bruce said, shooting Bucky a wide grin.

"I'll go. I'll go."

"Darcy's going to be just fine. And so are you, Bucky. I know it doesn't feel like that right now, but you've got to hold on to that."

"Okay. I will."

Bruce stood. "I promised Thor I'd meet him back at the lab. Are you going to be alright?"

"Hopefully," Bucky replied.

"Well, I appreciate the honesty. How about I bring over some shawarma tonight? There's a great place nearby that delivers."

"I don't think I've ever had shawarma," Bucky admitted.

"You'll love it. I'll be back around six thirty," Bruce said as he began to head towards the door.

"Thanks."

"Hey, we're a team. We're all in this together."

He looked down at the ground, feeling uncomfortable by the expression of support. "I appreciate it."

000000

"You didn't answer my texts," was the first thing out of Bruce's mouth as he arrived at Bucky's apartment that evening, his arms laden down with a huge cardboard box full of food.

"Sorry," Bucky mumbled. "I forgot to plug it in last night."

"Well, plug it in now. What if something important happens?" Bruce chided.

"JARVIS will tell me. Won't you, JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir," came the reply with a crisp British accent.

"You're just like Tony. You need to take care of yourself, you know. C'mon. Eat. If you're anything like Steve and Thor, you've got a massive appetite."

"I could eat," Bucky said as his stomach growled.

Bruce let out a bark of a laugh. "That's what I thought."

000000

After Bucky had eaten three pitas filled with schwarma, hummus, and veggies, he let out a sigh of contentment, pushing back from his table. He had to hand it to Bruce, he sure knew where to get food.

"How'd it go with your therapist?" Bruce asked.

"Good. I got some good techniques for calming myself during a panic attack."

"Yeah . . . I know firsthand how hard it is to calm down," Bruce said with a rueful grin.

The door buzzed and Bucky bit back a smile, anticipating what lay on the other side. He got up from the table and flung open the door, grinning at the present with a huge red bow on it.

"Who's that from?" Bruce asked.

"My Secret Santa. They leave something every day. This is the . . . eighth present."

"Eight? Wow. All my Secret Santa got me were a pair a socks."

"Huh?" Bucky asked.

Bruce put his foot on the couch and lifted up his pant leg to reveal long Santa Hulk socks. "In their defense, they are pretty nifty socks."

"How does all that work?" Bucky waved to the socks.

"Merchandising? Tony's lawyers set us all up with a deal to license our images. He figured if we didn't do it, someone else would try to. I could retire right now on how much revenue it brings in."

"Really?" Bucky gave him a skeptical look.

"We should get you set up with a deal. Once people know you're a part of the Avengers, they start using your image to hawk everything from soap to cereal. Might as well protect your image."

"I don't know."

Bruce shrugged. "You should look into it. Steve does it. He donates all his merch money to homeless shelters, although we're not supposed to know that." He paused, waving over to the DVD in Bucky's hand. "So . . . is that a good movie?"

"Holiday Inn? Yeah. I loved it when it came out."

"I've never seen it."

Bucky furrowed his brow. "Would you . . . would you like to stay and watch it?" For a moment, Bucky realized that Bruce seemed lonely. He and Tony were thick as thieves, but he was in California. And here it was the holidays, and Bruce had no family to celebrate with. Maybe it was time to make someone else's holiday a little brighter.

Bruce beamed at the invitation. "I really would."

* * *

**Author's Note** -

For those of you who've left reviews that have been sweet and encouraging, I thank you. Your uplifting words have been a very special holiday treat.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Day 9**

Thursday started with the ninth Christmas present. Bucky awoke with a buzzing sound. He squinted at his alarm clock and saw that it was nine. He'd slept in again, but without the nightmares. After watching Holiday Inn with Bruce, they ended up seeing The Christmas Caroland then Bruce downloaded Miracle on 34th Street onto Bucky's laptop. He didn't end up leaving Bucky's apartment until past two in the morning, not that Bucky minded.

As Bucky opened the door, he shook his head at what he saw. A gingerbread house, just like his mother used to make. He lifted it up to get a better look at it. He paused trying to decide what to do. A part of him wanted to devour it for breakfast, but another part wanted to keep it as a sweet decoration.

He spent about ten minutes staring at it on his kitchen counter.

He ended up eating the entire thing.

00000

Despite spending time with Bruce, Bucky couldn't quite force himself to go to the lab. He knew that he was avoiding Darcy, but he thought it was for the best. He went to the gym and worked out, spending a good twenty minutes on every single machine there, barely working up a sweat.

He came back and showered and changed, eating some leftover shawarma for lunch. It wasn't quite as good as the night before, but it was a sight better than the microwave meals that were sitting in his freezer.

After lunch, he turned on the television, switching once again to the old movie channel. He ended up watching Some Like It Hot and laughed more than he expected to. It didn't hurt that Marilyn Monroe's curves reminded him of Darcy.

Around two in the afternoon, he was feeling bored and listless. He knew he should just grit his teeth and go to the lab, but he couldn't make himself. He was just about to start on a John Wayne movie when there was a sharp knock at the door.

When he opened the door, he blanched when he saw Darcy. She stood there, looking smaller and paler than he'd remembered, wearing a long gray cardigan that went down to her ankles. It reminded Bucky of a fuzzy bathrobe. Her arms were wrapped protectively around herself and she looked unbearably vulnerable.

She gave him a tentative smile. "I texted you like three times. I even called you. Twice. The only person I ever call is my mom. I finally had to ask JARVIS where you were."

"Sorry. I haven't charged my phone in days," Bucky said more abruptly than he meant to. He was sure that his phone was stuck under some couch cushions at the moment.

"We kind of seemed to hit it off and then . . . nothing. I mean, if you're not . . . if you changed your mind . . . I understand," she said quietly.

Bucky's eyes widened at that. She thought he didn't like her. Nothing could be farther from the truth. "I hurt you."

She shrugged offhandedly. "You knocked over a chair. It's not the worst thing in the world. You need to get some perspective."

He was surprised that she was taking everything in stride. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "What I mean is that I've been through two full-on alien invasions. The Destoyer in New Mexico and the Dark Elves in England. People actively trying to end my life. I'm a lot tougher than I look. Do you think I even give a second thought about falling out of a chair? I've had worse injuries trying to get into my skinny jeans," she scoffed. She waved at the back of her head. "This was nothing."

Bucky swallowed hard. "You don't get it. I can't be that guy anymore."

"What guy?"

"The ladies' man who swept women off their feet. I'm broken, Darcy. The things that I've seen. The things that I've done. I can't pretend to be the old Bucky any more."

She shook her head. "I don't want you to be anyone other than who you are. Right here. Right now. I never knew the old Bucky. But I think the new Bucky is pretty amazing."

"You do?" he asked

She nodded. "I do. Now, put on your coat. We're going out."

"Where?"

"To get you to focus on something else."

00000

"An animal shelter?" Bucky asked as he looked around the squat gray building Darcy had brought him too. The automatic doors opened to a large lobby with Christmas decorations hung from every conceivable surface. There was a smiling older woman at reception and the place reverberated with the din of barking dogs.

Darcy nodded as they walked towards the desk. "It's not like my life is really conducive to owning any kind of a pet at the moment. I mean I've lived in New Mexico, Norway, England, New York. Who knows where I'll be next week? So, I get my animal fix here. I volunteer once a week, socializing the cats and dogs."

"Socializing?"

"Yeah. I take the dogs on walks and the cats . . . well, I pretty much let them tear my sweaters to shreds. But, I get to cuddle them, too. If they let me." She waved over to the receptionist. "Hi, Rosa. I brought a friend. I want to show him around. He's interested in volunteering."

"I am?" Bucky asked.

"He is," Darcy said firmly to the receptionist. "How can we help?"

"Well, we've got a ton of kittens in Room 8. Just turned four months old." Her face turned sour and she shuddered. "We rescued them from a hoarder."

"Room 8. Thanks," Darcy smiled at Rosa, giving her a wink. "C'mon," she said to Bucky.

Bucky dutifully followed Darcy. As a kid, his parents struggled to feed their kids, so a pet was out of the question. But, a friend in the apartment next door had a cat to keep down the mouse population and Bucky had to admit he'd always envied that.

Room 8 was enclosed in glass and set up like a living room with a small dark brown loveseat and speckled blue and brown rugs on the floor. At least a half dozen black and white kittens roamed around the room, playing on various cat towers or chasing each other.

"So . . . uh . . . what do we do?"

Darcy sat down and patted the cushion next to her. "Just sit on the loveseat. If a kitten comes up to you, you pet it. At this point, we're just getting them used to being around people."

Bucky nodded and sat down next to her, so close that their knees touched. "So you do this every week?"

"Animals don't care if you're smart. Or dumb. Or pretty. Or ugly. Or if you have superpowers. Or if you're just normal. They love and accept you as you are."

"You're not just normal," Bucky insisted.

"I'm not?" She raised an eyebrow at his vehemence.

"You're incredible."

"That's high praise coming from an Avenger," she quipped.

"It's true," he said firmly.

A tuxedo kitten began to rub its head against Bucky's leg and looked up at him. "What does that mean?"

"He likes you. Go ahead. Pet him."

Bucky reached down with his right hand and slowly caressed the little kitten's sides as he purred, while Darcy giggled.

"What?"

"When he does that, he's also marking his territory. You're his human."

Bucky gave a snort of laughter. "So he owns me now?"

She shrugged. "It's what cats do." Her expression turned serious. "Are you coming to the lab tomorrow?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah. I really do."

"I'll be there," he promised.

* * *

**Author's Note** \- Has anyone seen Kat Dennings instagram account? She is so sweet with animals.

**Thanks again for all of your sweet reviews. They are the ONLY reason I have the motivation to write a story over 12,000 words in the month of December.** I do have to apologize. My goal is to individually respond to every single review and comment. However, today I was completely slammed and, quite frankly, overwhelmed. I had two options. I could either update or respond to your reviews. I hope you're alright with me choosing to update. Tomorrow, I promise to respond to every single review!

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Day 10**

Bucky woke up Friday morning in a considerably lightened mood. As silly as it sounded, playing with a passel of kittens was just what he needed. Darcy was fine and even a bit put out that he took what happened so seriously. She had assured him that she was okay, that she was made of sterner stuff.

They ended grabbing a pizza together at a small mom and pop pizzeria not far from the shelter. They talked for a good two hours while Bucky devoured three fourths of the pizza. He found out about her starting her college career as a poly sci major and ending it, as she put it, "kicking some major alien butt". She was funny and self-deprecating and witty and Bucky couldn't remember when he'd laughed so much.

He could have stayed with her for hours more, but Darcy received a text from Jane and it was time to go. He walked her to her door just down the hall from his own, and he felt strangely hesitant as they stood there wishing each other goodbye. He hadn't kissed a woman in seventy years and he had a feeling that a kiss with Darcy was going to mean something more than just mutual attraction. He was about to lean closer to make his move when the door opened to Darcy's apartment and Jane began to scold her for taking off without letting her know ahead of time, her worry coloring her chiding tone.

So, the moment was over before it began.

000000

Bucky made breakfast, a hot warm bowl of oatmeal, raisins and plenty of brown sugar and cinnamon. He turned on the string of lights and powered up his laptop to play the Christmas mix that his Secret Santa had gotten him. As he drank his coffee and ate his oatmeal, he found himself humming along to the music.

The doorbell buzzed and he bounded out of his chair, smiling along the way. Nestled next to his door was a long gray scarf tied up in a red ribbon. It matched the gloves he had gotten a few days ago. He took off the ribbon and wrapped the scarf around his throat, closing his eyes a moment, drinking in the softness against his skin.

"Best Secret Santa ever," he murmured as he entered his apartment and placed the scarf gingerly, almost reverently, in his chest of drawers, next to his new gloves.

000000

The day in the lab seemed to whiz by. To his surprise, he not only was able to understand most of what was going on, he was able to contribute a time or two, recalling some detail from his time with Hydra that proved relevant.

"You know how I ducked out at lunchtime?" Darcy asked once the workday had officially ended.

"Yeah . . ." Bucky replied.

"Well, Thor got a little tired of all the takeout, so I thought I'd try my mom's recipe for pot roast in the crockpot. I had to go back to the apartment to start up the slow cooker. There are potatoes, carrots, and onions, too. I invited Jane and Thor to come over for dinner. Would you . . . would you like to come over, too? There'll be plenty for everyone." She gave him a winning smile.

The thought of a home cooked meal made Bucky's mouth. He caught a glimpse of Bruce out of the corner of his eye, packing up his laptop. He leaned close to Darcy and whispered, "Could we invite Bruce, too?" He remembered how lonely he had seemed earlier that week.

"Oh," she said softly, disappointment tinging her voice. "Yeah, of course," she mumbled.

"Thanks," he said as he waved Bruce over. "Hey, Bruce. Darcy's making a big homemade dinner. Pot roast. Want to come over?"

Bruce's eyes lit up and he began to beam. "Pot roast? That sounds . . ." His eyes darted to Darcy, who was furiously shaking her head. "Like a horrible idea, actually. Because of science."

"Science?" Bucky asked.

"Uh . . . yeah. I need to look into some more . . . . um . . . properties of the infinity stones. And . . . I've . . . I've got a four simulations running at the moment. I want to be here when they finish up," he ended lamely.

"If you're running simulations, why did you power down your laptop and pack up?" Bucky asked.

"Uh. . . . conserving energy. Trying to save the environment, you know." He took a deep breath. "You kids have a good time. I'll see on Monday."

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked.

Bruce darted a glance at Darcy who was nodding enthusiastically. "Yep."

000000

After a meal that was so delicious that it rivaled anything he'd eaten since he left home, Bucky pushed back from the table, a huge grin on his face.

"That was a wonderful meal. I can't thank you enough for it. Let me get the dishes," he offered as he stood, holding out his hand to take Darcy's empty plate.

"You can wash and I'll dry," Thor suggested as he took Jane's dirty silverware and followed Bucky to the kitchen sink.

"No throwing my dishes," Darcy teased.

Thor colored as he picked up the red and green Santa dish towel. "I know. I know."

"Throwing dishes?" Bucky asked as he began to run the hot water.

"Jane explained it as a 'cross-cultural' misunderstanding. In Asgard, when one heartily approves of a meal, you smash your dishes to the ground to show your appreciation. It means that the meal was so exquisite that it can never be topped. Therefore, it would dishonor the plate to be used again," Thor explained sheepishly.

"Seems reasonable," Bucky observed. "Bet you run out of dishes quick, though." Although, he had to admit, if he had ever intentionally smashed a dish as a child, his mother would have been anything but pleased.

"Different realms. Different rules," Thor replied. "It takes a while to adjust."

Bucky nodded. It was hard enough losing seventy years of history. He couldn't imagine being displaced as much as Thor was, living on an entirely different planet. "Do you ever miss home? You know, Asgard?"

"Yes. And no." Thor wiped a few more dishes. "I grew up in a palace, had adventures across the nine realms . . . but the truth is . . . I had never known the type of joy that I've found here," he looked pointedly over at Jane.

Bucky snuck a glance at Darcy. "I can see that."

After the dishes were done, Jane busied herself making some hot cocoa while everyone back down sat around the kitchen table. She and Darcy had baked some sugar cookies the day before and as Bucky dipped the frosted cookie in his hot chocolate, he let out an audible sigh of contentment.

"This holiday food agrees with you," Thor observed as he selected another cookie from the enormous snowman plate that Jane had placed in the middle of the table.

"It really does," Bucky admitted. "I missed out on this for . . . well . . . decades."

"Well, we're going to make up for lost time," Darcy said determinedly.

"We are?" Bucky asked.

"I brought over a DVD. It's from right after your time. 1946. But it's a classic. It's my favorite Christmas movie," Jane confessed.

"What's it called?"

"It's a Wonderful Life. Have you seen it?" Jane asked.

"Can't say that I have. Hydra wasn't really big on the holidays," Bucky said drolly.

"Would you like to stay and watch it?" Darcy asked, biting her lip.

Bucky thought of sitting next to Darcy for two hours straight and couldn't help but smile. "Sounds like a plan."

Thor and Jane took the couch while Bucky and Darcy sat on the adjoining love-seat. Before the movie began, Darcy popped up and raced around to her room and bathroom. "Sorry, I forgot," she said as she plopped boxes of tissues in front of Jane, Thor, Bucky, and herself.

"What's this for?" Bucky asked, furrowing his brow.

"Darcy cries like a baby during this movie," Jane said, sticking out her tongue at her friend.

"No!" Darcy protested. "You're the one who weeps like a cranky toddler."

000000

It turned out that they were both right. Before the movie was even halfway done, both women were wailing so hard that Bucky didn't know quite what to do. He awkwardly patted Darcy on the back while Thor put his arm around Jane, her tears practically soaking his shirt. Thor glanced over at Bucky and gave him a sympathetic smile and a shrug.

Once again, it really wasn't the night for romance.

_Oh well,_  he thought as his eyes began to mist over at George Bailey's plight and he had to grab his own tissue,  _there's always tomorrow._

* * *

**Author's Note** \- I have a confession to make. I cry buckets EVERY SINGLE TIME I watch that movie.

Only two more days to go!

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 11**

Saturday, Bucky awoke before eight to a persistent pounding his apartment door. He thrust on a pair of jeans and a sweater and scrambled shoeless to the door.

Standing there was a bleary-eyed Tony Stark in a rumpled AC/DC sweatshirt and jeans, holding a red and green tin with a reindeer on it. "They don't call it a red-eye for nothing. Next time, I'm taking the jet. Let Pepper fly commercial," he said as he brushed past Bucky, shoving the tin in his hands.

"Uh . . . thanks," Bucky said hesitantly. He opened the tin to see homemade snickerdoodles.

"Oh . . . I didn't make those." Tony waved to the cookies as he plopped down on Bucky's couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "They were on your doorstep."

"My Secret Santa," Bucky explained. "Would you like one?"

"Nah. Thanks, though. Good that you're Secret Santa held up their end of the bargain. Natasha's still hasn't come through for her." Tony stretched and yawned.

"Oh," Bucky said.

"Thing is . . . I'm Natasha's Secret Santa. I've got no idea what to get her."

"How about some amped up Widow's Bites?"

"I like the way you think, Barnes." Tony nodded towards Bucky's arm. "So, Bruce has been sending me a string of freaked-out texts. Seems your arm went all haywire."

"Yeah," Bucky said softly.

"Sorry I couldn't get back here earlier. I thought this whole corporate takeover thing was going to get cleared up a whole lot sooner than it was." He sighed. "The worst bad guys don't need Spandex. A lot of them wear business suits." He got off the couch, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get you up to the lab and see what we can do."

"Um . . . how long should that take?"

"What? You got a hot date?" Tony teased.

"Sorta . . . um Darcy and I were going to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center tonight."

"Look at you. The last time I was here you were all Blue Screen of Death, practically catatonic. And now you're scoping out the intern. My dad would have been proud."

Bucky remembered Howard Stark and his penchant for the ladies. "Yeah . . . I bet he would."

"Well, go. Put on your shoes and meet me up in my lab. It's ten floors up from here. If you want to make your date, we're going to have to hurry."

Bucky looked down at his bare feet and grimaced. "Yeah. Gimme a couple of minutes and I'll meet you up there."

00000

"So, how'd the meetings go? In California?" Bucky looked around Tony's lab, full of his 'bots and equipment. Dum-Dum was sweeping up in a corner, and another one was just meandering around in circles.

Tony shrugged. "Good . . . Pepper ended up mopping the floor with them. Woman's smart. Smarter than I'll ever be."

"Should I have her working on my arm?" Bucky teased.

"You know, we've all got our gifts."

"So, uh . . . will this really take all day?"

"You're really hot to go on this date, aren't you?"

"First one in seventy years. I'm a bit rusty," Bucky admitted.

"It's just like riding a horse. Or a bike . . . you get my drift." Tony waved Bucky over to his workbench and proceeded to open up a panel on his left arm, sucking his breath in noisily as he saw the tangled mess of wires underneath. "You've got good taste, I have to hand it to you. If I were twenty years younger, I'd try my luck with her myself. Well . . . if there were no Pepper."

"Is she coming back to New York soon?"

"Tomorrow or the next day. We normally celebrate Christmas in Malibu, but since everyone's here . . . " Tony trailed off as he peered inside Bucky's arm.

"Good. Bruce'll be glad."

"He missed me, didn't he?" Tony asked triumphantly.

Bucky shrugged. "It's hard being alone around the holidays."

"A few years back, I used to spend all my holidays in a drunken haze, passed out on a bed with a woman whose name I forgot in the morning. We all deal with loneliness in our ways."

"But now, you've got Pepper."

"Yeah . . . poor Pepper," Tony replied with a wink. "She puts up with a lot. May we always fall in love with better people than we deserve."

Bucky thought of Darcy. Of her kindness. Of her generosity. Of her ability to forgive so quickly. "Amen to that."

* * *

**Author's Note** \- You know the whole thing about Bucky killing Tony's parents? I totally decided to skip over that for this fic. Canon or no, we needed fluff.

TV Tropes has a great wiki page about the "Heroic Blue Screen of Death" (when a hero becomes nearly catatonic after a huge shock). I take no responsibility, however, if you know spend the next hour on the TV Tropes website. It always sucks me in.

Only one more day to go!


	12. Chapter 12

**Day 12**

Sunday morning, the alarm on his phone buzzed loudly to wake Bucky up at seven-thirty. He groaned as he groped around to shut it up and struggled to sit up. He and Tony had been up until two in the morning as he worked to fix Bucky's mangled arm. He had to reschedule his ice skating date with Darcy, promising her that they'd go out on Sunday night. She'd been gracious about it, even bringing over Thai takeout for him and Tony for dinner.

Bucky looked at his metal arm and grinned as he squeezed his hand shut firmly. Tony had doubled his response time, even going as far as making his arm fifty percent stronger. More importantly, he'd upgraded all the wiring and circuitry, clearing out decades of rust and grime. Essentially, Bucky had an all new arm that could last him the rest of his life and then some.

Bucky took a short shower, dressing quickly. He was driving out Jane's aunt's church with her, Thor, and Darcy and the service started at ten thirty. Thor had borrowed one of Tony's SUVs and loaded it up the night before with all of the gifts for the kiddos as well as a Santa suit he'd rented. The drive would take nearly two hours and Bucky didn't want to make them late.

000000

Nearly three hours later, Bucky sat next to Darcy in the pew. Jane was on the other side of Darcy, right next to Thor. Bucky had taken Thor's advice on what to wear to church. In his time, a suit was considered mandatory for Sunday service. But, like Thor, Bucky had opted for dark slacks and a gray button-down long sleeved shirt with a gray cable knit sweater to ward off the cold. Darcy was wearing a burgundy turtleneck sweater dress paired with black boots, an outfit that Bucky heartily approved of.

The songs that they sang before the sermon were the old standards, "Silent Night", "O Holy Night", and "The First Noel". Bucky felt right at home, singing the same carols he had as a child. While he was impressed with Darcy's voice, high and clear next to him, Thor's voice was the one that reverberated throughout the sanctuary. It was so rich and deep that the members of the congregation around him stopped singing and turned around, slack-jawed at Thor's performance.

After some quick announcements, the main pastor took the stage, a balding man in his mid-fifties with a kindly smile. "Good morning, all! As was announced, we've got a special visit from Santa after the service in the Fellowship Hall where we will also be having our potluck Christmas lunch. I heard that Mrs. De Luca has made at least three pans of lasagna."

Bucky's stomach grumbled at the thought of a buffet full of homemade goodies and Darcy looked over and gave him an indulgent smile.

The pastor grinned at the crowd. "When I was a kid, I was obsessed with do-overs. I loved the idea that you could mess up, but still get a second chance. To me, the worst phrase at the beginning of a game was the dreaded 'no do-overs'." The congregation chuckled.

"As we grow older, our mistakes can have wider implications. We go down the wrong path. We hurt people. We hurt ourselves. And we long for the opportunity at a second chance. With all the pain and brokenness in our lives, we desperately crave a do-over."

"At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Jesus. With His sacrifice, we all have the chance to start again. We are no longer chained to our past. We are no longer tied to the people we used to be. We have the unique opportunity to become the people that God intended us to be. There's an exhilarating freedom in knowing that the future is wide open for us. We just need to take the first step."

Bucky grinned at the message.

Forgetting about his past, starting over again.

A second chance at life. Forging ahead into the unknown.

It all used to sound so terrifying.

Now, it sounded inviting.

000000

As soon as the sermon ended and the second round of Christmas hymns began, Thor slipped out the back entrance to don his Santa suit with Jane's help. The congregation sang "Angels We Have Heard on High", "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", and "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day". The last song got to Bucky, causing him to wipe an errant tear from his eye as he remembered how Steve used to belt out the last verse of it when he was just a kid:

_Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:_

_"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;_

_The Wrong shall fail,_

_The Right prevail,_

_With peace on earth, good-will to men."_

"You okay?" Darcy leaned over and asked, a worried look on her face.

"Yeah . . . just hoping Steve and Sam are alright."

"Well . . .the service is over. When's the last time you texted him."

Bucky shrugged. "I can't remember. It's been a few days. He's supposed to be on radio silence."

"Well, text him," she urged.

Bucky pulled out his phone and dutifully typed out a quick message.

_-Hey buddy, when are you coming back?_

To his surprise, his phone began to buzz almost immediately.

_**-Can't talk. I'm in debriefings now. Good news. I'll be back at the Tower tomorrow.** _

Bucky couldn't contain his grin. – _See you then._

Darcy was leaning into him slightly, peering at his phone. "Looks like another Christmas miracle."

He nodded. "You ready for some grub?"

"I'm a still a college student at heart. I'm always down for free food. You'll have to try Jane's aunt's roasted sweet potatoes. They're the best."

"Will do."

000000

The Fellowship Hall was a long banquet-type room, covered in Christmas decorations. There were about twenty round tables covered in red and green plastic tablecloths, each of them seating ten people. As some members of the congregation busied themselves in the large industrial kitchen to the side, heating the dishes that had been brought, or adding a few last minute touches to their casseroles, the rest of the congregation was crowded in the back, where "Santa" stood next a huge red velvet throne next to a Christmas tree, handing out packages, along with help from "Mrs. Claus".

Bucky stifled a laugh as he approached. "You didn't tell me that Jane was going to get dressed up, too."

"Her missing out a chance on doing a couple's costume? Not a chance." Darcy took her phone and began snapping photos. "This is so going on Facebook."

"Yeah, I gotta send a photo to Sam and Steve. They are never going to believe it."

After a good half hour, the presents had all been handed out and every child had gotten to have their picture with Santa and Mrs. Claus. "I fear Mrs. Claus and I must depart. But remember, always carry the spirit of Christmas in your heart," Santa said.

A little girl no older than four, with dark hair and impossibly large eyes, ran up to Santa and gave him a hug so hard her entire body trembled. "Thank you, Santa. You're the best."

Santa knelt down and tenderly hugged the child. "Thank you, little one. Thank you for making this a most special Christmas for me."

With that, Santa and Mrs. Claus departed and the children began to play happily with their new toys. After a quick prayer, everyone began to line up for the potluck lunch.

"You still up for ice skating tonight?" Bucky asked as they took their place at the end of the line.

"You bet," Darcy replied. "I was thinking Jane and Thor could drop us off back at the Tower and we could get changed. I want to wear something a bit warmer than this." She waved at her dress.

"Sounds like a plan."

His first date in seventy years.

He couldn't wait.

000000

Around five that evening, they walked arm in arm the few blocks to Rockefeller Center from the subway. Darcy was snuggled up close to him, and while it could have been the cold, Bucky chose to believe that she was just as enthralled with him as he was with her. They took their time, stopping to get hot chocolate on the way.

Bucky insisted on paying, handing a steaming cup over to Darcy after the order came up. She sipped it cautiously, taking a seat next to Bucky in the cafe, sitting closer to him than strictly necessary, despite how crowded the restaurant was. When they finished drinking, he held out a hand to help her up, and they ended up walking the rest of the way to the Center holding hands.

"So . . . it's nearly Christmas," she said as they reached the ice rink and waited in line to rent their skates. "Are you done with all your shopping?"

"Yeah . . . . You know, I wanted to get you something . . . only I wasn't really sure what. I know we've only met a few weeks ago, but I feel like I've known you for years. No . . . that isn't right. I feel like I've been waiting for you for years." He took a deep breath. "The reason things ran so late last night was that I had Tony call up his lawyers and draw up all the paperwork. Any proceeds that I get from merchandising, I'm donating to that animal shelter in your honor."

"Oh, Bucky," Darcy managed as her eyes misted over and she hugged him fiercely. "That's the sweetest, most thoughtful Christmas present I've ever gotten. The shelter's always low on cash, always struggling to make ends meet. That money . . . . it could make all the difference. And to think, I only got you this for your twelfth present." She took a sprig of mistletoe from her pocket and gave him a shy grin.

"My Secret Santa?" His voice caught on the last word. "I was hoping it was going to be you." He gave her a quizzical look. "But how did you deliver all the presents? You were gone for a whole weekend."

"Tony developed some mini drones with repulsor technology. Bruce let me borrow one." She pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh . . . don't tell Tony."

"So . . . mistletoe," Bucky said with a roguish grin.

Darcy held it aloft her head and gave him a come-hither smile. "You remember the tradition, don't you?"

"I surely do," he said, as he put his arms around her, dipping her so that she was nearly parallel to the ground while his lips met hers. She held onto him tightly, her body pressed against his. Slowly they parted, as Bucky gave her a confident wink and the rest of the people in line clapped at the impromptu display of affection.

"Wow . . . that was some first kiss," she said as she straightened, her cheeks reddening.

"The first of many," he promised.

"Okay . . . now that may really be the best Christmas present ever," she replied.

"Right back at ya," he said as he took her in his arms once more.

* * *

**Author's Note** \- I wish I had more words to say other than thank you. You have been the most amazing readers ever! Your support, encouragement, and kind words have truly been a blessing. I do have a request. **Even if you haven't left any comments or reviews on any other chapters, if you've enjoyed this story, could you let me know on this last chapter?**

If you're looking for a longer romance, may I recommend my stories, " **The Captain's Bride/The Sergeant's Wife"**? If you've liked this story, I really think you'll enjoy those as well!


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